


I'll See You in the Night Time

by blothhound



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Found Family, Mafia AU, Modern AU, Mutual Pining, Other, Pining, Slow Build, ill add more tags but for now... this will do., implied darksparks - Freeform, mirage and bloodhound recite romantic poetry together but still don't realize they like each other, some headcanons, title might change too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:07:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24655060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blothhound/pseuds/blothhound
Summary: Elliott Witt never thought that he'd end up as the errand boy for one of the most notorious gangs in the city, but here he was, picking up the food that the mob boss had ordered for all of them to eat for dinner that night.
Relationships: Bloodhound/Mirage | Elliott Witt, miragehound - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> another miragehound!! i've had this one on my mind for a while. the description and tags look a little bare right now but i'll add more as i upload more chapters. once again, thank you for reading. : )

The chatter from the patrons in the Paradise Lounge overlapped, causing all conversation to get muddled. It also didn’t help that Elliott Witt was off in his own world, daydreaming of his ideal life; living in a cozy cottage, being the owner of a restaurant in a small seaside town rather than in a big city. As he pondered, a man continuously called for Elliott’s attention.

“ _Amigo!_ Hey, come on!”

Elliott looked up from the glass he had been washing mindlessly for the past few minutes. “Oh, uh… sorry. Welcome to the Paradise Lounge! I’ll be your bartender today, so just lemme know what you wa—”

“You don’t gotta gimme that whole schtick. I came for a quick drink before I gotta head back to my job.”

Elliott finally took a glance at the man across the bar. He was somewhat short, had messy hair dyed neon green, and was wearing a mask with sharp teeth stitched on the front. A few piercings lined his earlobes, and Elliott assumed there were more piercings hidden under the mask and in other places. As the man tapped his fingers against the bar impatiently, a large forearm tattoo came into view, but it was too hard to read the words in the dim light.

“I’d like a cocktail. I don’t care about the flavor, just surprise me,” said the guest.

Elliott cocked his eyebrow. _A sweet drink? That’s cute._ After he finished preparing the beverage and handed it to the man, he began to try and make conversation. His talkative nature was a common topic in reviews about the bar. “The bartender is so chatty! A million stars,” (that review was made by his own mother, but it still counted). Some reviews were good, some bad. Elliott guessed not everyone enjoyed his cool, flirty attitude. “So this job you mentioned. It’s pretty late right now. Do you have a nighttime shift at a restaurant or something?”

The man pulled the mask beneath his chin and took a sip of his fruity cocktail. “Nah, I’m being a spy. There’s a meeting going on across the street and I gotta get some info for Andrade. Maybe rob a few of those sleazebags.”

Nodding, Elliott took a moment to process what he heard. “Wait, a _spy?_ Like a secret agent?”

“You could call it that.”

“Okay, you’re being super dismissive and like, ‘oh it’s no big deal! I’m just a secret agent.’ Are you a hitman? A dark web assassin?” Elliott hadn’t met someone this interesting in a while. Usually, all the customers at the bar were there to meet other attractive people and mess around. They all had the same old office job or were rich from their parents and never had to work a day in their life. All boring, but this guy was different. Even if his story was complete baloney. 

Sighing, the man took another sip of his drink and puckered his lips. “Kinda sour, I like it! Alright, _compadre._ Listen. My boss is looking for some guy, she never told us why, but I guess he’s really bad and hangs around a lot of rich people. She also has us steal stuff. I dunno if that has anything to do with her past but it’s pretty exciting so I don’t care. I’m not a hitman, although that would be really fun too. Maybe if I ask her if she has anyone that needs to be killed or something.”

Elliott couldn’t help but laugh. Sometimes he got a few weirdos pop by for a drink, but this guy was entertaining. “Do you get paid?”

“Big time! I dropped out of college to work for her. God, I couldn’t stand the thought of becoming a doctor or some douche. At least now I get to be in the action and I barely ever have to wear pants.”

“Pants? You’re not wearing pants?” _That… is a little gross._

“Why would I? I don’t have real legs. Of course I wear, like, shorts, but never fancy pants or anything.” He stepped back from the bar, and Elliott could see that from below his knees he had artificial, metal legs.

Elliott almost began to believe his spy-story now. Almost _._ “That’s pretty badass.”

The man finished his drink and slid a few dollar bills over the bar. Elliott was a bit bummed that the stranger was leaving. He was just getting into the story and wanted to ask more questions.

“I’m Octavio, by the way. Thanks for the drink, _amigo._ You knew exactly what I was craving.” Octavio waved, then quickly rushed out of the Paradise Lounge, pushing past people on his way out.

Shaking his head, Elliott went back to cleaning the used glasses. _He had to be lying. I wish my imaginary life was that exciting._

—

The sound of the front door being knocked on echoed through the house, but Elliott stayed in bed. “Too early…” he muttered to himself and pulled the sheets over his head. The knocking continued, but Elliott ignored it. That is until he heard his door open and footsteps walk into his living room.

He quickly jumped out of bed, grabbing something to protect himself with. He ended up grabbing a hairspray can since it was the closest thing to him, but it would have to do.

He slowly crept down the hallway, listening for how many people were in his house. He only heard one set of footsteps. _Yeah, I can do this. I can do this! Just… bonk! over the head with the can._ When he reached the end of the hallway, he counted down from three before he jumped around the corner, exclaiming loudly.

The intruder turned to him and set down the picture frame they were looking at. “You must be Elliott Witt.” They seemed calm and spoke to him in a low voice. Elliott couldn’t tell if they had a weapon on them.

Holding the hairspray can tightly, he slowly raised it in the air. “Um, yeah? What the hell are you doing in my house, though?”

They stepped towards him, but their aura was nonthreatening. “I cannot explain here. You can either comply and come with me to the car while you’re conscious and blindfolded, or I can put you to sleep and bring you to the car myself.”

“Why do I gotta get in a car?” Elliott glanced behind the person and saw a car parked outside through the window. “I— I seriously don’t know what’s going on.” As Elliott looked at the stranger’s hands and clothing to make sure they didn’t have a weapon, thoughts from last night came flooding back. The man, Octavio, had told him that he was a spy. _Didn’t this happen only in movies? An innocent bystander finds out about a local gang’s agenda and ends up getting kidnapped to ensure they don’t snitch?_ “How’d you get in?”

“You keep a spare key under your welcome mat. I would recommend you change where you hide it; everyone knows to check under the mat,” they said. “You should make a choice. We are wasting time.” They reached into their back pocket and pulled out a cloth.

“I… I guess conscious with the blindfold? You’re not gonna kill me, right? Wait, promise you won’t hurt me.” Elliott’s heart was about to burst from his chest. _Just comply and they’ll let you go sooner. The worst they’ll do is take you to some shady warehouse where they’ll question you and keep you trapped there until you’re brainwashed. Right? Yeah, that could happen._

The intruder approached Elliott and gently took the hairspray from his hand and placed it on the coffee table. “I will not hurt you… unless you try to hurt me. Turn your back to me.”

Elliott slowly turned. The onslaught of thoughts flashing through his brain was innumerable. _Run, Elliott! But, wait, what if they hurt Mom if I don’t come with them? Is this some sick joke? Is this one of my many fans but they’re crazy and are kidnapping me? Did Octavio request I get kidnapped for some reason? Why is this person being so nice? I could elbow them in the chest or headbutt them right now and escape._ The blindfold slipped over his eyes and his world went dark.

The person carefully grabbed his wrists and brought them behind his back. A cloth was tied around them, but it was loose. Elliott could easily wriggle out of it if he wanted to, but he was a bit afraid. Despite being so kind, he could tell they wouldn’t hesitate to hurt him if he did anything.

“I apologize,” they said behind him. “I have to tie your hands, too. I will admit that you do not seem very harmful, but I was given these orders.” They grabbed his bicep and began to lead him to his front door.

“I’m still in my pajamas,” Elliott said. He began to feel embarrassed more than scared now. The stranger’s voice was soothing and it seemed as if they really weren’t going to kidnap him for days or kill him.

They ignored him and helped him get into the backseat. When he heard them get into the front seat and begin driving, he tried to ask them their name.

“Alright, you’re getting special treatment right now. You are lucky I did not gag you so you couldn’t talk.”

Elliott pursed his lips. He hadn’t noticed before, but they had a strong accent and talked very formally. He cursed himself for not taking a moment to see their face. All he knew is that they were about the same height as him, maybe a little shorter.

With a sinking feeling in his heart, he remained silent for the rest of the trip.

—

Elliott felt the car come to a stop and the engine cut out. The kidnapper walked over to open Elliott’s door and helped him out. He felt the cement under his bare feet and he began to feel even more embarrassed for himself. Was he going to have to meet a mob boss in his boxers and oversized pajama t-shirt, along with no shoes?

The person stopped, and Elliott stopped alongside them for they were still gripping his bicep to guide him. “Watch the steps,” they said.

Soon, he felt the blast of air conditioning as they stepped into the building. The noise from his escort’s shoes echoed through the room, and Elliott wondered if they really were in a warehouse since he felt cold, smooth tiles beneath his feet.

“Bloodhound! You found Elliott.” An unfamiliar voice called out.

 _So their name is Bloodhound?_ Elliott made a mental note.

“Where’s Loba?” Bloodhound stopped walking and Elliott stayed close to them.

The other person approached them. “Last I saw, she was in the lounge area with Lifeline and Octane.” She had a peppy voice and an accent of her own, but it was different from Bloodhound’s.

“Thank you, _félagi._ ” They began walking again.

Elliott was trying to unwind everything he was overhearing. _Loba? Lifeline? Octane? Octane sounds similar to Octavio. Maybe I’m just overanalyzing. Maybe Octavio has nothing to do with this. Octavio is… kind of a common name. Why would someone be named Bloodhound? Like the dog?_

Elliott heard Bloodhound open a door and as the two of them walked in, a woman seemed to be yelling, along with a familiar voice replying with, “yeah, I get it! Sorry, Che!”

“You’re back, Bloodhound.” A woman with a smooth, low voice called out. “Come bring Mr. Witt to this seat and remove his blindfold, please.”

Silently, Bloodhound led Elliott to a seat and lifted the cloth from his eyes. The brightness of the room in contrast from the dark blindfold caused Elliott to see spots for a moment. When his vision cleared, he could see that he was in a large room with elegant, velvet furniture that matched the wallpaper. It almost seemed like he was in some rich person’s living room. Sitting on a couch across the table was a stunning woman. She wore a white corset that revealed quite a lot, and her hair hung from her head in two braids.

“You’re staring, dear,” she said with a slight laugh. “I’m Loba, as you probably know by now.”

Elliott raised his eyes and gaped. “W— why am I—”

“‘Why am I here,’ is what’cha going to say, right?” The sharp voice of the woman that was yelling when he entered the room spoke up. “Well, Silva here decided it’d be a good idea to give away the details of our _whole_ organization!”

“Aw, don’t be too harsh on him,” Loba chimed.

Octane nodded his head quickly. “Yeah, what she said! Anyways, I didn’t tell him _everything_ , like how your name isn’t really Lifeline. It’s a codename for—”

“Am I being held hostage now?” Elliott looked around the room and finally saw what his captor looked like. They weren’t unattractive by any means. They had long, burgundy hair tied into a loose bun, along with a small braid tucked behind their ear. Before he could stare at them longer, they shot him a look and he quickly turned his eyes back to Loba.

The leader of the gang shook her head. It was obvious she was trying not to chuckle. “You don’t have to worry, Mr. Witt. No harm will come to you, or your mother. We just have a little proposition to make for you.”

“How do you know my mom?” A gnawing feeling grew in his gut. _This lady could be really dangerous._

“I have some talented people working for me who can get what I want. I also know you own a very popular bar near The Strip. Many significant people go to the Paradise Lounge to get a drink and unwind. You could be quite useful to me.” Loba stood up from the couch and approached him. She placed a finger under his chin and raised his head so their eyes met. “I could award you generously. Perhaps…”

Elliott swallowed. She was definitely intimidating, and the fact that she seemed to know so much about his personal life was unsettling. She was the real deal. “With money?”

“How about money and better treatment for your mother?”

 _Treatment?_ Sweat began to form on Elliott’s palms and forehead. “W— what would I have to do…?”

Loba took her hand from under his chin and placed it on her hip. “In the beginning, you would do simple work such as running errands and you can still work at your bar and try to get some information out of people, since you seem to be good at that.” She gestured to Octane. “Eventually you can join the others on bigger missions, such as interrogating people and breaking into parties and stealing things… it’s easier than it sounds, I promise. Don’t look so scared!”

Elliott looked around the room once more. Octane and Lifeline were sitting close together and laughing at something Octane had on his phone. Bloodhound was sitting back comfortably with their eyes closed. The woman they had met before they entered this room seemed as if she was close, or at least well acquainted with everyone in this room. Loba spoke to everyone with such a tender voice, it almost reminded Elliott of his mother’s voice. Everyone here seemed so at ease, unlike the people in the mafia movies he watched.

Most importantly, Loba promised better treatment for his mother. A bartender wasn’t exactly the right kind of job to have if you wanted to get top of the line medical treatment. _Maybe… maybe I can work for her just for a few missions. Maybe I’ll be able to save money and afford Mom’s treatment myself. Maybe this will help her get better._

After taking in a deep breath, Elliott looked into Loba's eyes. “I’m in.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second chapter is finally up... and it's a bit shorter than some of the others will be. but i can't wait to introduce all the other characters :)  
> thanks for reading!

Elliott rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he awoke in his bed. He hadn’t got much rest last night, with getting home so late and having to learn all the rules of Loba’s little gang. Or, had it all been a dream? Yeah, that all couldn’t have been real, he decided a bit remorsefully. His heart squeezed tighter when he realized that he wouldn’t be getting his mother’s treatment as easily as Loba made it seem to be. Just a fantasy that his mind decided to shove in his face in the form of a dream.

After taking a moment to stretch, he groggily made his way to his kitchen to make some breakfast. As he neared the living room, he could hear the TV blasting some kind of show. _Must’ve forgotten to turn that off before I went to bed, although I don't often forget,_ he thought to himself. Without glancing to check, he passed the living room and entered the kitchen.

Dishes he didn’t remember using were piled in the sink. He opened the fridge to find that his box of donuts that he was saving were gone, as well as one of the gallons of milk that he recently bought. Had he been eating in his sleep? Did he somehow get wasted last night and his mind made up that bizarre dream in his drunken state as he ate all his breakfast foods?

“No, don’t go in the dark basement! _Dios mío,_ these people sure are stupid!”

Elliott jumped as a voice yelled from his living room. Had someone broken in? Was his dream from last night trying to warn him about today?

Grabbing a fork from the counter, he crept into the living room, expecting to see the same intimidating stranger from yesterday, or his dream, rather. He was met with the sight of a man sitting on his couch watching a horror movie.

The man turned his head, sensing Elliott standing there. “Oh, you’re finally awake. Sorry for eating all your donuts and cereal, but I gotta be nice and full in order to help you pack all your shit.”

Elliott lowered the fork. He looked exactly like the Octavio from his dream and even talked like him too. “What do you mean? Pack my stuff?”

“Well, yeah. You’re coming to live in the Andrade Hotel with the rest of us. You’re telling me you don’t remember the whole spiel she gave you?” Octavio paused his movie and leaned over the arm of the couch. “Now that you’re a part of our gang, you gotta live close by. It might seem a little strict but living with the others is pretty fun someti—”

“It wasn’t a dream?”

“Of course not. Are you _loco?_ Buzzed outta your mind, maybe?”

_So, it’s possible that my mom can be treated?_ Elliott brought a hand to his forehead. This was the opportunity he’d been seeking. Although it seemed a bit too good to be true, what would the harm be in giving her the information she needed if all he had to do was work in his bar and talk to people? It’s not like that isn’t what he usually did. His charming personality would finally be rewarded with something other than extra tips and random strangers in his bed.

“Let’s get started, I was pretty bored waiting for you to wake up,” Octavio said, wasting no time. He jumped up from the couch and did a little jog in place. “Just bring clothes and important stuff. Don’t worry about furniture.”

“Why are you here if that’s all I have to bring with me?” Elliott began to make a mental checklist of anything important he would want to bring along.

Octavio waved his hand as if to dismiss Elliott. “Some safety measures to make sure you’re not tracked from your home or anything. Y’know, alarm systems, traps, cameras, basic stuff like that.”

Figuring it’d be best to not question him, Elliott made his way back to his room. “First things first,” he said to himself, “I need to get dressed, so I don’t show up in my pajamas like before.”

—

The two of them finished putting Elliott’s bags in the trunk, and Octavio finished whatever safety measures he was applying to Elliott’s house. They got in the car and began the drive to the hotel owned by Loba’s family.

“So, um, isn’t it a little suspicious to have everyone living in the same place? Easier to get caught for whatever we’re doing?” Elliott watched as they entered the city.

Octavio scoffed. “It’s not like those rich assholes are doing anything worse than what we’re doing.”

Elliott sensed his hostility and kept quiet.

“Hey, I don’t get to drive often ‘cuz, like, Che thinks I’m a ‘danger to society,’ whatever that means. You mind if I play some music?”

“Nah, go ahead,” Elliott said.

Octavio cranked up the music, which sounded like… well, Elliott didn’t even know what to think of it. It sounded like preteens yelling to distorted dubstep. To each his own.

He didn’t want to bother Octavio with questions, especially since he really might crash the car if he lost focus. The music was worrying enough. But a thought continued to linger in the very back of his mind: _what if she’s lying about her end of the deal?_

—

Since Elliott wasn’t blindfolded this time, he could finally see the exterior of the hotel, and, _wow,_ it was stunning. He wondered how rich Loba really was. They entered and Loba was already waiting at the front desk, yet she acted surprised when she saw Elliott approaching. “Elliott, you returned. How courageous of you.”

Elliott chuckled nervously. “Er, of course. Couldn’t stay away from someone as gorgeous as you.”

“Oh, don’t butter me up,” Loba smirked. “I already promised you your end of the deal. You won’t have to worry about me backing out or giving you the short end of the stick.”

_She sure knows how to read someone. Probably a good skill to have when you run a mafia,_ Elliott thought to himself.

“Allow me to show you to your room.” Loba motioned “come here,” with her finger, and Elliott obeyed. Octavio carried his other bags for him as he followed.

As they waited in the elevator to arrive at the right floor, the scent of Loba’s perfume filled the air. It was alluring and heavy, and seemed to suit her perfectly.

“So, uh, when can I start my job?” Elliott didn’t have another shift at the bar for a couple of days since he had time off, but he was still concerned with all the details.

Loba leaned against the metal support bar on the wall and faced him. “You can start in a few days, and all you’ll have to do is be a little suck-up towards a few people. You’ll have Pathfinder there to help you since there will be multiple groups there. And, when you’re needed for other missions not involving your bar, don’t worry about being short-staffed. Feel free to ask me if you need any other people or help.”

Scratching his beard, Elliott pondered on the idea. “So when I’m not doing a job, I just stay in the hotel?”

“You can stay here, or go to places in surrounding areas. It’s easier to keep everyone within range, just in case… well, I doubt you’ll be a snitch, unlike Octavio here.”

Octavio sighed sharply but didn’t say a word.

“You’re lucky we needed a location like yours within our entourage,” Loba said. “If you were worthless to our mission, well, you wouldn’t have gotten off so easy.”

Elliott nodded slowly. “Um… good to know.”

The elevator stopped on the floor they selected and the group walked out. They walked down the hallway until they reached room 608. Loba handed a key to Elliott. “Here’s your room. And, regarding your codename, do you have any ideas?”

_Codename? I can choose? This is sorta sudden. Um…_ “‘Mirage,’” Elliott blurted. That would fit him right. A wave of nostalgia hit him, but it soon disappeared before he could recognize the feeling.

“Alright, mister _Mirage_ , don’t be afraid to call me if you need anything. Make sure you’re available if you’re called, though. We can discuss the specifics of your end of the bargain after your first job,” Loba said. She gave Elliott a pat on the shoulder and walked away— well, more like strutted away.

Octavio tapped his foot impatiently. “Entitled little…” he muttered to himself.

“Don’t like her much, huh?” Elliott unlocked the door to his room.

“I dunno about you, but I can’t just openly trust these rich people. Sure, she pays me well enough that I can do whatever the hell I want, but that doesn’t mean I gotta like her,” Octavio huffed. He pushed the door open and walked into the room. After dropping Elliott’s bag on the bed, he quickly walked out and down the hallway. “Call me whenever, _amigo._ Let’s get drinks sometime.”

Elliott waved goodbye as the masked man walked away. He entered the room, but was taken aback as he looked around. The TV was larger than any of the ones he had ever had, and the bed was way too big for just one person. There was even his own kitchen to use! He hadn’t checked the bathroom, but he was sure that would be just as extraordinary.

On the nightstand was a smartphone. He turned it on and noticed there was a text from the contact “Loba”.

> Here’s a phone for your personal use, with any necessary contacts you need. Of course, don’t do anything that you know will risk your well-being within our scheme ;) maybe give your mother a call?
> 
> If you’re bored, feel free to get to know some of the other people. Most are usually around the lounge area or in the garden.

Elliott took a deep breath and flopped onto the soft bed. First off, he’d need a nap. It had only been about an hour since he had woken up, but all this was too overwhelming. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

For the first time in a couple of days, Elliott woke up without finding a stranger in his home. He sat up on the large bed, taking a moment to become fully conscious. The evening sun cast an orange light through the window and upon the soft white carpet.

Elliott decided that he should give his mother a call. They usually had conversations over the phone every few days, and he hadn’t been able to talk to her recently. He felt around his pockets for his phone to no avail. He then searched his bags for it, although he remembered having it in his pocket when he arrived at the hotel with Octavio earlier that day… Did he lose it? Or had it been stolen?

He didn’t want to falsely accuse Loba, although she had been hinted at to be a great thief.  _ Maybe she stole my phone? I hope not, all my… my photos are on there. My mementos and stuff… _

Somewhat hurt, he stood up from the bed and picked up the phone Loba left for him on the table. He checked the gallery out of curiosity and found all his albums in it, just like they were on his old phone.  _ She somehow transported all these onto this phone. Which means she probably saw all my selfies, which is embarrassing as hell! But at least I have my other photos too. _ Elliott checked the contacts and found his mother’s number, as well as other numbers that weren’t familiar to him at all. _ Must be her other helper’s numbers… haha, guess they’ll all miss out on my charming flirts since I don’t have to ask for their numbers myself. _

He sat back down on the bed and began to dial for his mother. One of the nurses answered after a moment. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me, Elliott. Just wanted to check up on her,” he said.

There was a pause on the other end. “She just fell asleep. I can always tell her that you called,” the nurse responded. “Maybe you can call back later?”

Dejected, Elliott shook his head. “No, um, I’ll try tomorrow. Tell her I love her if you can, alright?”

After the call ended, Elliott fell back onto the bed.  _ If she even remembers who I am,  _ he wanted to add at the end. The nursing home she was at took great care of her, especially with her being in the late stages of her Alzheimer’s. What other treatment was there for his mother? There really was nothing that could reverse the disease, or make her better, or make her remember all the memories and names, or make everything just go back to normal. No matter how many times he looked it up, it was always the same outcome.

Elliott smacked his cheeks to regain his focus. He’d go to visit her soon. He’d discuss it with Loba. Maybe he could get some help financially to keep his childhood home in his care, and make sure he had enough money to have a perfect… well, he didn’t want to think about that aspect at that moment. She wouldn’t need one, because there’d somehow be a cure discovered soon. That’s what he believed, at least.

He went to the bathroom to wash his face in the sink. He inspected himself in the mirror. His beard was getting a little long, but he could trim it the next day.  _ Maybe I should go socialize a bit and cheer myself up,  _ he thought to himself.

After making sure he didn’t look like a complete wreck, he stepped out of his room. He decided that starting in the lounging area might be the best bet to run into someone.

When he got there, a blonde girl with a pixie cut was chatting with a lady with black hair and fair skin. The blonde girl noticed Elliott standing there and waved for him to come closer.

As he approached, the other woman rolled her eyes. Before Elliott could comment, her friend spoke up. “Don’t be so rude! He’s the new guy.”

“He sure seems like a real dork, showing up on the first day in his boxers and no shoes.”

Elliott scowled. “Hey, not my fault I was forced out of my house so quickly just to come join your weirdo orga-, org… weirdo group.”

The younger girl smiled politely. “Mirage, this is Renee…” She paused when Renee let out a sigh. “Oh, I mean… this is Wraith! Sorry, I get a little used to using everyone’s real names when we’re hanging around the hotel.”

“Nice to meet you,  _ Renee _ ,” he said, rolling his ‘r’s on the first syllable. She glared at him.

“I’m Wattson, but you can call me Natalie,” Natalie said.

“And you can call me Elliott.” He recognized Natalie’s voice from the first day he arrived; she must’ve been the one to meet Bloodhound at the entrance.

“Loba told me that you might need someone to show you around. I could help you with that if you’d like!” Natalie smiled up at him.

_ She really was too kind for her own good. Why did she agree to be a part of a gang like Loba’s? Well, I would’ve gotten lost for sure if I wandered around on my own, so I’ll take up her offer.  _ “Yeah, thanks. I appreciate it,” he said.

Natalie waved goodbye to Wraith, who gave her a small smile in response, then walked towards the exit of the lounge area. Mirage followed awkwardly behind her.

When they got to the lobby, she stood still for a moment and began counting on her fingers. She was mumbling to herself, but Elliott couldn’t understand a word.

“Let’s go meet Dr. Caustic first! I’m sure he’s sitting in his lab right now.” She led Elliott towards the elevator.

_ Lab? Doctor? Caustic? Doesn’t that word mean, like, poisonous?  _ He followed Natalie since he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

In the elevator, Natalie pressed the button to go to the basement.  _ That makes a lot of sense. He couldn’t fit a whole lab in his hotel room, could he? Although the rooms are pretty big. _

Once they arrived in the basement, she began to head down a long hallway. At the end was a heavy metal door. She knocked on it gingerly.

“Dr. Caustic? Are you here?”

There was a noise of a chair rolling across the floor, then a low, gravelly voice spoke. “Do you wish to talk about one of your new inventions? You can come in.”

Natalie opened the door, but as soon as Caustic saw who was behind her, he scoffed. “Never mind, I’m busy.”

“Aw, Dr. Caustic! He’s the new guy. You could be somewhat kinder.” She giggled. “He’s usually a grump, but don’t let that fool you. He just wants the best for people,” she whispered to Elliott.

“Reminds me of my old man. He would pretend he was all rough, but then goof around with us a split second later,” Elliott said.

Caustic turned towards his lab bench. “I do no such thing as ‘goof around’. And do not view me as your fatherly figure… It’s weak to rely on others in such a way.”

Taken aback, Elliott sucked in a breath of air through his teeth. “Alright, grumpy pants…” He waved, then began to walk back down the hallway.

“No, wait!” Natalie grabbed Elliott’s sleeve and pulled him back. “Dr. Caustic, his name is Elliott! He also goes by Mirage. I know you spend all your time in the lab, but you should at least try to get to know some of the others who work with Loba!”

_ Now they’re gonna argue? How much more awkward can this get?  _ Elliott stayed silent, like a kid waiting for his mother to finish talking to her friend that she ran into at the grocery store.

Sighing, Caustic turned back around. “Nice… to meet you, Elliott. I hope you are of use to us in some way.”

Natalie seemed satisfied with his response, until he added, “I always need a test subject to experiment the effects of my corrosive gases on. Feel free to stop by if you’re willing to be a lab rat.”

Eyes wide, Elliott tried to walk away again, but Wattson was still holding his sleeve. “Haha, you’re real funny. A real coma- comedian,” Elliott stuttered out.

“You grump! Hmph, I’ll see you later.” Natalie turned and began to walk towards the elevator at the end of the hallway.

“He’s scary as hell,” Elliott commented.

“Don’t worry. He… he can be nice when he needs to be. He was one of the first people to check on me when my Papa passed.” She had a sad smile on her face.

They entered the elevator and headed towards the sixth floor. “I’m sorry,” Elliott said quietly.

“It was a while ago. I miss him dearly, but I’m happy for the time I got to spend with him.”

The elevator dinged once they got to the selected floor and Wattson headed towards the first door on the right. “By the way, most of us have our rooms on this floor. Except, Dr. Caustic usually sleeps in his lab, although I've told him how unhealthy it is, and Loba has a room somewhere else.”

She knocked on the door, and after a moment the sound of multiple locks clicking open could be heard on the other side.  _ I don’t remember having that many locks on my door, _ Elliott thought to himself.

A man stood there, peering through the slim opening of the door. He had short black hair, but his most noticeable trait was his resting bitch face. At least, that’s what Elliott observed.

“Crypto, this is our new guy. His name is Elliott, or Mirage. Elliott, this is Crypto.”

Crypto looked him up and down before opening the door more and sticking out his hand. “ _ Annyeonghaseyo. _ ”

Elliott shook his hand hesitantly. “Uh, ‘Anne Young’… what language is that?”

He took a moment to reply. He seemed to be checking out Elliott but in a judgmental, intimidating sort of way. “It’s Korean.”

“That’s neat! I’ll assume you said something nice to me,” Elliott said.

“He said ‘hello’,” Natalie commented. “He teaches me phrases sometimes, and I teach him some French. Learning a new language is always fun.”

Elliott was amazed. “I wish I took the time to learn a new language. Being able to flawlessly switch between two is… attractive, sorta.”  _ Why’d I say that? _

Crypto made a ‘tch’ noise, then closed his door.

Somewhat blushing, Natalie headed to the door across the hallway. She stayed quiet.

“Being bilingual is so cool. You said you speak French?” Elliott asked.

“ _ Oui,”  _ Natalie simply said, but she had a hint of a smile on her face as she knocked on the next door.

It opened quickly, and on the other side was… a tall blue robot?

“Hi, friend!” He waved to Wattson. The screen on his face flashed a yellow smiley face as he turned to Elliott. “Hi, new friend! I’ve heard all about you!”

_ He’s super friendly. Maybe too friendly…  _ “Hello, talking robot… Are you just a human in a costume?”

“Of course not! I’m made of top-brand metal, only found in the deepest parts of the earth. My hard drive and all my storage and data are some of the most developed in the world. My creator put a lot of love into me, at least, that’s what I assume. I also know almost anything! Ask me a question!”

Elliott was skeptical. “Okay, when’s my birthday?”  _ Let's trick him and give him a personal question rather than one that anyone could answer. _

The robot’s singular eye light dimmed for a moment. “You were born on August 3rd, 1989, which makes you a Leo. You were born in the town of Mauston, Wisconsin, where you grew up on your family’s farm. Your mother is named Evelynn Wi-”

“Alright, alright, I get it! You’re smart.” Elliott was a bit frightened at how much he knew.

“I’m a MRVN unit, but you can call me Pathfinder!”

“I’m Mirage, but you can call me Elliott if you really want.” He squinted at the robot, trying to see if there was a human in the inner workings.

"You two seem to get along well!" Wattson clasped her hands together.

Elliott scratched at his beard. "Is all that info about me out on the internet? How's he know all that?"  _ Does he know about the night with the pumpkin when I was on shrooms? _

The robot's screen flashed a question mark. "I get any personal information about others from Jaime. I'm like a backup for it all since I have strong 'willpower' as you humans call it. Even if I'm brutally tortured and forced apart bolt by bolt, I'll still keep quiet."

Elliott winced. "Okay, okay, I understand. You can’t feel pain?"

“I can simulate it! I can inflict it! But I guess I’ll never be able to experience it as you would… that goes for more complex emotions too…” His screen showed a crying emoji.

"Aw, Pathy, it’s alright," Natalie said. “You’re still so kind, even if you can’t process certain human things.”

“Oh, like the tin man from Wizard of Oz!” Elliott commented.

Pathfinder held a thumbs up. “Exactly. If only I had a heart so I could love my friends even more. For now, I hope you all enjoy my best efforts.”

Elliott couldn’t help but grin.  _ For such a dorky robot, he’s pretty sweet. _

Natalie giggled. “Thank you, Pathfinder. I’m sure we’ll see you soon. I have to go introduce Elliott to the others.”

"No problem at all." His screen-face showed an emoji with heart eyes. "'Don't get your panties in a twist'! I don't know what that means since I haven’t updated my info, but Octane taught it to me and I feel that it fits this situation."

Mirage had to hold back a laugh. "Yeah, try not to go around saying that." He waved as he followed Natalie down the hallway. After a moment, Elliott spoke up. “Who’s this ‘Jaime’ person?”

Natalie tapped her fingers together in thought. “Well, he’s Loba’s friend. He’s incredibly smart and handles all the techno things. He also is very good at digging up info on people. Actually, he barely leaves his room, so that’s all I know about him. He and Loba have known each other for a long time and she trusts him completely, so he must be a good guy.”

Elliott didn’t know how to feel about him yet. _Wasn't him knowing all that an invasion of privacy? Shouldn't only, like, the government know that kind of stuff?_

They stopped at a door right next to Elliott's room. "I get to meet my neighbor!" He began to wonder who it was.

After Natalie knocked, there was the sound of a bird cawing. At least, that's what it sounded like. But a bird inside of a hotel room?  _ Weird _ .

The door opened, and the person who had kidnapped Elliott on the first day was standing on the other side. They had their arms crossed, and Elliott quickly noticed a sleeve of tattoos on one of them. From what he could see, the tattoos looked more like intricate squiggles than full pictures.

A cat already had his tongue before he could even speak.

Wattson patted Elliott on the shoulder. "This is Elliott. And Elliott, this is Bloodhound."

"You're my neighbor," Elliott blurted after a moment.

Bloodhound nodded their head. "I guess I am."

The silence hung heavily between the group. They obviously weren't much of a talker.

Natalie and Elliott gasped when a large bird flew from inside the room and perched upon Bloodhound's shoulder. They gently scratched the bird's feathery chest.

"Artur, how have you been?" Natalie's voice got noticeably more pitched as she cooed at the bird. Bloodhound coaxed him and he jumped onto Natalie's outstretched arm.

Artur the bird stared at Elliott with judgy, beady eyes. He ruffled his feathers as Natalie gently pet him.

"That's a huge crow," Elliott said. He stuck his finger out to try and pet him, but the bird nipped at him instead. Elliott let out a cry, and Bloodhound had a sly smile on their face.

"Artur is a raven," they commented. "And he seems to like you."

Elliott held his finger gingerly. "He just bit me!"

"It's more like… a beak hug, of sorts."

Wattson giggled. "What a friendly little bird."

Elliott nodded. Were they just saying that to make him feel better?

"I'm sure you're very busy, Bloodhound, so we'll leave you be now." Natalie gave Artur one more tickle under his chin, then held out her arm so he could fly back into Bloodhound's room.

Elliott grinned. "If you ever need any as- assistance, then I'm just on the other side of the wall. Almost like we're Pyramus and Thisbe."

Bloodhound slowly nodded. "’O kiss me through the hole of this vile wall!’”

“‘I kiss the w- wall’s hole, not your lips at all.’” Elliott could feel the heat rising to his cheeks.

They responded with a small smile and turned to shut their door.

Barely hiding his interest, Elliott waved to their closed door as Natalie began to lead him to the next person to meet.  _ Was that a flirt? Were they just trying to show off how smart they are? No, why would they go along with it if it didn’t mean anything? Nah, they were just playing. _

Despite downplaying the situation, Elliott couldn’t help but get butterflies when he thought about it.

Wattson rubbed her chin in thought. “I think we’ve met most people… Lifeline is out right now, but I’m sure you’ll meet her tonight at dinner, along with Gibraltar. And Rampart as well...” She mumbled the last part.

“Dinner? But there’s a kitchen in my room.”

“Yes, but every now and then we do a big dinner together, especially when we have a new member.”

Elliott heard his stomach rumble at just the thought of dinner. “Sooo… when is this communal dinner exactly?”

Checking her phone, she read off the time. “In about an hour. Just last a little longer; Loba usually orders out for us, and one of us goes to pick it up.”

“I sure hope I don’t have to go get it,” Elliott chuckled.

  
  


Elliott walked into the hotel lobby, arms full of takeout. He must’ve jinxed himself and ended up as the delivery boy. It seemed like enough food to feed an army rather than a gang. 

He headed towards the dining hall, where he heard many different conversations being held. It looked like a normal family dinner. It brought a strange comfort to him.

A voice boomed from the end of the table. “Ay, the new guy’s here! C’mon, don’t just stand there. I’m getting grey hairs as we speak!”

Elliott didn’t recognize this woman at all. She had her hair up in a ponytail and a gap in her teeth, but it was pretty charming.

“Bloody hell, yah bloke, I’m goin’ my darn fastest!” He laughed at his terrible accent. “I can’t speak English.”

The woman let out a loud cackle. “I already love this guy! Now, bring me my burger!”

After all the food was distributed, Elliott took his spot next to Wraith and Caustic. Octane was across from them next to Lifeline and Bloodhound.

“Hey, Eli, tell us about yourself.” The pink-haired girl pointed a fork at him.

“Always such a snoop, Ajay,” Octane said with food in his mouth.

She smacked him on the shoulder. “I just wanna get to know our new buddy, Tavi. At least I can hold conversations, unlike your crazy ass.”

_ They seem super close.  _ Elliott took a sip of his water. “Um, my name’s Elliott R. Witt.”

“Uh-huh.” Ajay encouraged him to continue.

“And… I’m twenty-eight. No, I’m thirty, but don’t I look incredibly young for a thirty-year-old? I live alone in a little house, and I’m unmarried. But I’ve got a mom and three older brothers. I work at a bar owned by my family for almost a century. Erm…”

Octavio groaned. “Kind of boring, eh?”

Lifeline shot him a look. “And what do you do? Stream stupid games all day and live only on energy drinks?”

He chuckled. “Can’t argue against that.”

Elliott smiled down at his meal. “I get that. I live comfortably, and I don’t mind having a repetitive day. Actually, this spy stuff is the first thing to happen to me in a few years. Other than, well, yeah… I haven’t done much since…” He mumbled his last few words, mostly talking to himself.

“Nothing wrong with a quiet life,” Wraith said. Caustic and Bloodhound nodded slightly.

“You gotta live a little,  _ amigo! _ You own a bar but you don’t even get wasted ever. Let’s go out on the town some time, me and you. Whaddaya say?” Octane shoveled food into his mouth. He obviously had no table manners.

Contemplating, Elliott picked at his napkin. “That doesn’t sound bad at all. Count me in.”

“Don’t let that fool get you into any legal trouble,” Caustic muttered.

Bloodhound raised their eyebrows slightly. “Like your little experiments aren’t borderline illegal?”

Octane and Ajay yelped in laughter. Elliott snickered, and Caustic rolled his eyes.

“You got him good, Hound!” A large man was slapping the table in laughter. “Don’t worry about getting in trouble. Octavio usually likes to go out for a joyride on my bike.”

“Are you Gibraltar?” Elliott asked.

“Yep, just call me Gibby! And that goes for you too; if you ever wanna take a ride on my bike, don’t be afraid to ask.”

Elliott flashed a grin. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He turned to the quiet woman on his left. “Renee, is it?”

The woman looked at him with tired eyes. “Yep,” she said after a moment.

“About that nose piercing… did it hurt? Maybe getting one for myself might do me wonders. I mean, my looks are already devastating.”

“Old man, you’d look ridiculous with a piercing,” Crypto spoke up from a few chairs down.

Elliott feigned shock. “I’m not that old! You youngsters  _ wish _ that you’ll look as good as me when you’re my age.”

As all the members ate together, Elliott slowly felt like he belonged alongside them. He could join their conversations with ease. It felt as if something he had been missing for a while was finally coming back. He loved this feeling of belonging. They all were so comfortable with each other, almost like they were... a family, of sorts.


End file.
